


our hands clasped so tight

by orphan_account



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jurassic Park AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 15:47:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2817686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1993 they make a discovery. In 1997 this humble discovery goes awry and Fitzsimmons are left wondering, "is this our fault?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheLateNightStoryTeller](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLateNightStoryTeller/gifts).



> Part of the Fitzsimmons Secret Santa thing

_**1993 -** _

She rubs at the back of her neck, her hands feeling at the beads of sweat that have gathered there. The boy beside her is fanning at himself with a stack of their research, causing other papers to be blown off of the desk. "It's too hot in here," he complains, setting down the stack of papers and searching the desk for his glass of water. “I can’t believe we’re stuck doing this; we’re like his personal guinea pigs.”

"It is a bit warm, but you know we can't leave until this is finished, Fitz."

They're watching a small computer screen, analyzing the pixels that appear and disappear with little beeps. Fitz complains about the sounds, muttering about how he thinks they've done enough for the night. His partner, Jemma Simmons, ignores this.

"The Director told us we couldn't leave until the results came back." She stands herself, wiping at her brow and moving to one of the microscopes placed on a clean lab table. Placing an eye to the lens, Jemma examines the cells of a mosquito. Zooming in and out she notices the makeup of the cell, closing in on it's nucleus. "Fitz, I think you ought to see this."

Her partner walks over, mumbling under his breath about wanting to pack up and go home. "What is it?" He's unenthusiastic when she offers up the microscope for him to look at the mosquito cells.

"These cells are still dividing,” her tone becomes more elated as she pushes him off of the microscope so that she can take another look at them, “something in the amber must have kept these cells alive! Oh, how did we just see this, Fitz?” She looks away from the microscope and takes his wrists in her hands, “We did it. If we combine the strands of DNA from the mosquitoes with the frogs DNA strands we -”

“- can go home?” He tries.

She brings him into a hug, dropping his wrists and wrapping her arms around him. She breathes him in and mumbles into his shoulder, “Yes, Fitz, we can go home.” She holds him not much longer before she quickly scribbles down the results while he cleans up the lab in haste.

They work in silence, though both have noticeable smiles on their faces. When they finish, a stack of papers in each hand, they leave the lab and walk down the hall to the entrance of the private facility where a stiff bodied man in black opens the door for them. Jemma gives him a quiet thank you while Fitz stays silent (too intimidated to say anything). Together they walk off towards where a car is waiting to drive them the short distance to the dock where a boat will send them back to the mainland. After their departure from the boat, it’s only a short walk to their apartment complex.

They had left a small air conditioning unit running while they were away and are grateful for this when they are greeted by a cool blast of air upon opening the door. Jemma drops her pile of research on the table while Fitz moves to the refrigerator, searching with agitation for something to eat.

“Jemma, did you do the shopping?” He asks, slamming shut the refrigerator door and crossing his arms over his chest when she looks at him.

“It was your week.”

Fitz scoffs, as if the accusation of it being his turn to buy the groceries was astounding to him. When Jemma points to the color-coded schedule on refrigerator door, Fitz claims he had simply misread it. “I’ll just, uh, call some takeout place.” He reaches for the long, off-white phone that rests on the counter and opens the counter drawer he knows has all of the takeout menus. “Jem, do any of these places speak English?” Fitz holds up three menus advertising different cuisines.

“All of them do, Fitz.”

“Right,” he picks the top one and dials the phone number listed on the front. When the call goes through, he orders the simplest meal he can find on the menu for Jemma and himself - hamburgers. He hangs up the phone and informs Jemma that someone will come by to deliver it in fifteen to twenty minutes.

While they wait for the American takeout to arrive, Jemma looks over their research from today’s work in the lab. She’s satisfied with the progress and knows the Director will be as well when he comes to collect it in the morning. “If this works, the park should be up within two years.”

“That long?”

“Yes, Fitz, these things take time.”

The evening passes slowly from there and soon each are walking towards their separate bedrooms for the night. They wish one another a good night before each shuts their doors. Fitz falls asleep instantly while Jemma stays up, thinking about what the morning will bring. She is excited, knowing that the research she has discovered will be the missing piece to put together the park. She falls asleep easily that night, wanting to well rest herself before the second biggest day of her scientific career.


	2. the story

**_1997 -_ **

It takes longer than two years to finalize everything, but in 1997 the park is finally opened to the public. They call it Jurassic Park; _not the most original name_ , Jemma thinks, but she hadn’t gotten a say on that aspect. The woman who had named it was the adopted daughter of the Director, a woman named Skye who now worked in the tech room at the park. Though Jemma isn’t a fan of the name, she has become close friends with Skye and the others who have since come to help on the project.

Three months after the park has been opened to the public, Bobbi Morse leads a tour through the facility, passing through the lab doors where Fitz and Simmons work in different corners of the room. Jemma is inspecting the frog embryos when Bobbi announces to the group that this is the very spot where the park began. She says that it is thanks to the work of Jemma Simmons and Leopold (Fitz grimaces at this part) Fitz that the discovery of the DNA from the mosquitos allowed for the park to get its start.

“Feel free to look around,” Bobbi tells them as she drifts over to talk to Jemma.

“Just don’t touch anything.” Fitz adds, narrowing his eyes at a group of children who drop the tools they had previously picked up from one of the lab tables. He too walks over to Jemma and begins to complain about how little respect kids have.

“And that’s why you never want children,” Jemma says a little too loudly, causing several heads to turn. More quietly she adds, “I know, Fitz. You give the same speech every time Bobbi brings a group in.”

Bobbi holds back a comment directed towards the pair of them, instead telling them that she should get back to the tour. “Drinks on me tonight,” she quickly adds before rounding up the group and telling them they’re going to outside for the rest of the tour. “Who’s ready to see some dinosaurs?” She says in an obviously fake, cheerful voice as she leads them down the hall and away from the lab.

The two scientists return to their work, hoping another tour is not scheduled for that day.

It’s midday and Jemma finds herself still working in the lab when Skye comes in with a plastic bag filled with sandwiches in her hand. Fitz perks up when Skye drops them on an empty metal cart, saying she had made a run to the mainland about an hour ago.

“Do you want to stay?” Jemma asks when Skye turns to leave, Fitz nods in agreement.

She shakes her head, “We’ve got a four o’clock tour, gotta get everything set up. Can’t screw anything up in front of the boss.” Skye gives an eyeroll before giving them each a salute and walking towards the door.

They thank her again for the food and she leaves the lab through the automatic doors. Swiftly they make their way over to the cart and begin to sift through the bag, pulling out the sandwiches and unwrapping them. Both complain about how hungry they are in between ravenous bites. Midway through their hasty lunch they turn to see that the labs doors have opened and one of the tour guides, Antoine Triplett, steps into the room. They set down the sandwiches and listen to what he has to say.

“The Director is ordering immediate evacuation.” He says, looking to both of them as they stand still. “He says it’s a code red.”

This alerts them and they begin to run about the room, gathering up various supplies and yelling to one another from different corners of the room. Triplett stands by, tapping his toes against the floor as he waits for them to finish.

“Fitz,” Jemma calls as she opens several cabinet drawers, “where’s the key?”

“You were in charge of it.”

She shakes her head, slamming shut another drawer, “It was not my week. Honestly, do you ever actually read the schedules I make for us?”

As they argue, the alarms begin to go off in the hallway and Triplett urges them to hurry. Jemma tells him they have to find the key before they can go.

“Think, Fitz, we place it in the same spot every morning -”

“Unless -”

Jemma gives an exasperated sigh, “Unless we forgot to lock the door when we left this morning and the keys are still sitting in the flat on the counter where you left them.”

“Do not pin this one on me, Jemma.”

Triplett gives a little cough, telling them once again that they need to evacuate; this time they listen, and gather up a few miscellaneous items to take out the door with them. They are led down the hall and down to the basement where a special room that had been built for code red situations is placed. Voices try to hush the chatter that echoes through the space with little success. Jemma and Fitz find a quiet corner away from the others, and begin to mutter their own little words of reassurance to the other.

She places a hand on his knee, looking at him with warm eyes, “We’re going to be alright.”

“How do you know that, Jemma?”

She shrugs, “I don’t.”

He scoots a little closer to her, his arms hugging his legs for a short period before letting them fall to his side. He's anxious, fearful of what is going on above the surface. Only rumors pass through their ears; those that work with the parks’ live feeds say that the cameras have long since been destroyed in the exhibits. When Fitz breaks the silence that has passed between them for nearly twenty minutes, his tone is more anxious than before, "Jem, you don't think this is our fault, do you?"

She takes a moment to reflect on this question, "No. We had no way of knowing that the DNA we replicated would do such a thing. Of course, we should have warned them of the possibility when we actually found out how recreate the dinosaurs all of those years ago, but.."

They grow silent again, watching people rush in and out of the room with different pieces of news. In the end, someone makes an announcement that, while on tour, not one of the dinosaurs had made an appearance and the one that they did find was ill. Jemma turns to Fitz, mumbling something about how that shouldn’t have happened.

“Sir,” she stands up and addresses the man, “could you show me to where the dinosaur is?”

The man is taken aback, is surprised that someone actually wants to go out into the field, “She’s outside, in the storm.” Comes his simple, if not sarcastic, response.

Jemma looks to Fitz, a pleading expression on her face, “You know we have to go.” She tells him, urging for him to stand up and leave the safety of the underground room to check on the dinosaur. “Besides, I’ve never actually gotten to be up close to one of them.”

He’s reluctant, but still follows her down to where they keep a supply of rain coats. She tells him to wait by the door while she fetches a med kit, and he complies. Soon she is back at his side and the door is opened; the two of them step out into the tropical storm in search of the ill dinosaur.

“Jemma, do you remember what the man said back there?”

“Of course, one of the dinosaurs was ill and then I said -”

“No, about the dinosaurs not showing up for the tour group.”

She stops, looking at him with fear that stretches across her face. Taking a breath she places a hand to her forehead in concentration. “There must be a perfectly logical explanation,” she begins, starting to pace around a small section of the tropical grounds, “one that does not involve someone tampering with the electric field, leaving the dinosaurs to roam about the park with total control.”

“Yeah, because if that had happened - ” the light by the facility’s door goes out, “- the power would go out.” He rushes to the door, pulling on it with force; he has no success. Jemma offers an access card to him and he tries it with similar results.

“We can’t get back in.”

They look at one another in the darkness, rain falling on both of their heads as they try to make out the expressions present on the other's face. They're terrified, knowing that their only hope is to navigate themselves to the docks and hope that there is a boat ready to take them back to the mainland. In this weather, however, their chances are slim. Still, they begin west, shoulders brushing up against the other's as they navigate around fallen trees and other debris in a direction they’re not entirely sure is correct.

The sound they hear is like one taken straight from a science fiction film. A loud growling noise echoes around them. It's still a distance away, but it is enough to send them running into the other's arms.

"We're going to die out here," her voice wavers as she presses her head against his chest, " at the hands of our own recreation."

With trembling hands he holds her, rubbing against her back as the rain continues to fall down on them. The sounds of screams mixed with those of angry growls echo around them as they stand still. The sounds grow louder, a sign that whatever lurks out in the forest is drawing nearer to where the scientists stand in a huddle.

“How far is the dock?” Fitz asks in an offhand manner, breaking out of the embrace to face her more fully. He watches her shrug in what little light is left and begins to walk towards his left. “We come this way everyday, don’t we just follow the path?”

Jemma sighs, pushing back the hair that the rain has plastered to her face, “You’re absolutely right, Fitz. Of course, it’s always a car that takes us from the building to the dock but I suppose it’s the best we can do...” She is still worried about the ill dinosaur left alone somewhere in the park, but nerves overwhelm her and she follows closely beside him down the muddy path as they continue westward.

The sounds of footsteps pounding against the earth grow louder as they reach the edge of the forest, opening up to see lights from the mainland shining in the distance. A single boat waits at the dock, a man inside of it yelling for them to hurry along, that he’s tired of waiting in this “ _damned weather_.”

They rush over to him and he explains that he had been assigned to take the afternoon group back to the mainland after the tour. When they never showed, he had gotten suspicious - the sounds he had heard only confirmed such suspicions. He says no more and urges them to enter the boat; Fitz goes first, holding out a hand for Jemma to follow.

“We can’t leave them, Fitz. You know we can’t.”

Another growl sounds, closer than the last.

“Now is not the time to be heroic, Jemma.”

She closes her eyes in deliberation for a moment before taking his hand and climbing onto the slippery deck of the boat. They don’t look back as they start along the churning waters. She’s still uneasy about the decision to leave everyone else behind, but one look to the person beside her allows her to know that it is for the best.

She squeezes his hand and leans into him, “I’m sorry,” she tells him in a rush, “this was supposed to be the greatest experience of our lives, Fitz. And now -”

“- it all went to shit.” He finishes for her with a smile.

As they near the shore the rain begins to ease up, light begins to peek through the clouds. They keep their eyes forward, the island and the experiment already fading into a distant, horrifc memory.

* * *

****  
  


It’s no surprise that they don’t show up for work the following morning, and a week later they receive a note saying that the park has been sold and will be closed immediately. The two have already begun packing, deciding that without the park, they have no purpose staying in the foreign country. A plane leaves the following morning for England.

That following morning they sit next to one another on the plane, little conversations flourishing between them. They talk about what the future holds, what to do with their lives now that the park has been terminated. She thinks about applying for a position at one of the hospitals in London; Fitz says he'll probably return home to his mother and figure it out later.

She likes his answer, she herself deliberating a similar scenario in her head. "What if," she catches him as he's drifting into a light sleep, and he jostles awake, "we used the money we were given from the park and bought a flat outside of the city?"

"Yeah, but this time no more secret government projects."

Jemma nods, looking out the window to a darkened sky, “Definitely not.”

The flight continues on and as the two begin to drift into a sleep they decide that, no matter what happens next, they’re grateful that the other is still by their side.


End file.
